


Yours, Mine... Ours

by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brightwell, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Malcolm Bright Whump, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: Slow burn BrightwellDani aims to raise an accidental baby all on her own... only to realize she can'tAnd that she doesn't have to
Relationships: Dani Powell & JT Tarmel, Gil Arroyo & Dani Powell, Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

The cold blows harshly through New York City. It’s nipping temperature lowering steadily while the sun hides behind the thick clouds in the sky. A strong breeze sweeps through the city as Dani steps out of her apartment. It picks her thick curls off her shoulders. A single curl gets caught on her eyelash, a mild spike of painful itching distracting her from her mission. She’s frustrated, her nerves grated to their raw ends. She suspects that aggravation is not going to end soon.

“Detective,” Manuel greets from behind the counter. He spares her a hasty glance before looking back down at the textbook he has on the counter. She has known Manuel since the first week she moved into her apartment. Manuel’s father owns the convenience store as it was passed down from his father to him. Now, Manuel’s father hopes to pass it down to Manuel. Only, Manuel wants to be a teacher. Still, he spends every night, four p.m. to twelve a.m., working the shop. He hates it but his father means more to him than spending the weekend terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends.

Dani needs one thing. Masterfully, she glides along the aisles. She gets a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, brownie bits because it’s been a long and bad day. She deserves the brownie to ice cream ratio. That and, hopefully, Manuel will look over what she’s really here for. 

Pregnancy tests.

Manuel’s hand hovers over the box, his eyes glancing up at her. A silent, quick judgment on how far he can push her on the matter at hand. The matter _under_ his hand. “You good,” he asks, placing both items in the same bag. He hadn’t seen Dani in some time but he knew well enough that she hadn’t been with anyone, seriously, since Estime. Unless, of course, the brownie bits Ben & Jerry’s counts. She’s always had a stable relationship there but it’s a bit one-sided.

Dani sighs heavily and wonders if she should unload her stresses on a seventeen-year-old with enough on his plate. She glances down at his textbook, math problems cover the waxy pages. Nodding, she retrieves the bag from the counter. “I’m good. Are you though? That looks pretty complex.” She motions to the textbook and Manuel’s eyes squint.

He nods, his mind no longer wrapped up on the pregnancy test. “It’s calculus,” he explains with a sigh. The low light of the shop enhancing the bags under their eyes, the tired bloodshot scleras. “It’s driving me crazy,” he adds, frowning down at the textbook. “I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

Dani hums, shaking her head. She doesn’t miss high school. “I’ll leave you to that.” He smiles at her and she feels his eyes on her as she leaves. As she climbs the stairs back to her apartment, she realizes she’s got a test too and for the first time in her life she’s not sure if she wants to pass it or not.

\----------------

She locks her apartment door behind her. Stopping only at the refrigerator to collect a half-finished Gatorade. It had been in the fridge for… well, she’s not sure but she’s hoping it’ll speed this process on rather quickly. 

One line.

She holds the test in one hand, head tilted. “Oh,” she chuckles, but deep down this doesn’t feel right. It feels too easy. “That’s too good to be true.” So, in pajamas, she goes back down to the corner. She buys more tests and more Gatorade, Manuel doesn’t comment. 

“This better work.” She pees on her hand a little and it’s disgusting. Then she thinks about a baby. The amount of pee and poop she’s going to get all over her hands if she’s pregnant. Five minutes pass and two lines show up. She throws the test against the wall. It breaks in half with a satisfying crack.

With her knees drawn to her chest, she sobs into her knees. She loses track of time before she stands back up. Pulling her hair into a loose bun, she drinks another Gatorade, preparing for another test.

Just to be sure.

\-------1st month---------

“These are probably better,” Manuel holds up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. They’re pink, unlike the blue bottle Dani is reading the back of. “I did… some research.” The comment slips right past Dani, she’s caught up more in why there are so many options. She takes the bottle from Manuel and puts in her little basket. “Have you gone to the doctor yet,” he asks.

She frowns, she’d read some blogs. Mostly, she’s looked at corporate women in business breaking down how to hide a baby bump in each trimester. She hadn’t thought about the doctors yet, not once. She can’t help the blush that creeps up her cheeks,” uh no.”

Manuel frowns but doesn’t say anything. 

“So, how’d that test go?” He steps out of the way and allows her better access to the end of the aisle. She needs to pick up healthier snacks, things to keep the babu healthy and a few of the extra ‘baby pounds’ off. 

Manuel grins at her,” about as well as yours.” She ignores his comment and he fills her in. “I got an A- but considering the class is mostly self-taught, I’m counting it as a win.” His proud little smirk melts her heart and she wonders how she’s going to pass the next few months with raging hormones. “How are… your things?”

She elects to ignore his little in tone, the inclination that he’s talking about any one of the hundred problems she has right now. Especially, the ones she told him about while tipsy on box wine three months ago. More so, the one growing in her right now. “I’m fine, Manuel.” Except she’s not. She isn’t going to tell him that though. “Ring me up?”

He looks defeat, probably hoping those raging hormones would loosen her tongue a bit. No such luck.

“Be good,” she says as she leaves him. She rolls her eyes towards the sky, what a little shit.

\------2nd month----------

“You okay?” The small tilt of Malcolm’s head gives away that he already knows the right answer. His eyes are stupidly blue and full of compassion and genuine interest. It makes her stomach tie itself into tight little knots. Her chest feeling cracked, nearly broken as her heart races. “You don’t look like you feel well,” he adds.

She doesn’t feel good. Her mother called last night and that call ended in mutual tears and a frustrated goodbye. There’s a box of positive pregnancy tests in her bathroom. Estime won’t pick up her calls and now Malcolm… Well, he’s looking at her with those stupidly, adorable blue eyes all concerned and caring and it’s not helping. “It’s been,” she considers lying. Then she remembers that little head tilt and knows there’s no point. “I’m exhausted and this case isn’t helping.”

He sighs in agreeance, settling himself on the edge of her desk. “Wanna talk about,” he offers but it’s like bait. He’s luring her in, even if he is genuinely interested. A part of her does want to tell him. To unload all this weight she’s carrying but she hasn’t even told her mother about the baby yet. If anything, her mother and JT should know before Malcolm does. 

Right?

She pulls herself to her feet, stuffing her paperwork back into its manilla folder. She glances at him only once, knowing her mouth will come unglued if she looks too long or spares a second glance. Those blue eyes will get to her. Remind her that he cares, that he’s more than willing to let her air her dirty laundry. Why does he have to be so damn charming?

“You okay?” He seems to be asking her that a lot lately. 

“I’ll be right back,” her tight smile doesn’t bid well with him. It… it isn’t right. Dani’s smile makes the skin around her eyes lift and crinkle. It’s contagious to everyone in the room. The corner of the right side of her face always lifts a little higher than the left, crooked. This smile was forced, it wasn’t real.

She comes back from the bathroom ten minutes later. Malcolm notices how ginger she is with her stomach, a hand half raised to protect it. His mind races to fill in the problem, the anxiety, and concern eating his own stomach away. She’s not okay and she’s lying. Dani never lies, at least not to him. It’s like, around him, she says every thought that happens to cross her mind. She leans into him, his touches. Of late, she’s silent and avoidant. 

Has he done something?

“She was twenty-four,” Edrisa hands them the paperwork. The killer had brutally torn apart a young woman, defiling her in such a way that made her unrecognizable. Leaving Edrisa to put her back together and take hair follicles to give their young victim a name. “Her name was Samantha Hinegrad,” Edrisa hands Gil a picture so he can pin it to their board. “She was a mother of two.”

The sudden paleness of Dani’s features all makes sense. The wrist she keeps pressed to her lower stomach, the long bathroom breaks, and the near gag at lunch when JT reheated eggs. “You’re pregnant,” the words leave his mouth softly. It’s still an accusation and they all know who at. 

All eyes turn to Dani, her paler getting suddenly worse. “W-What?” 

They both stutter. JT’s face is a cloud of mixed emotion, aggravation and confusion. It makes Malcolm uneasy, suddenly thrown off. It does the same to Dani. She stands too quickly, her stomach hurting and she knows another bout of morning sickness is washing over her.

She’s hurt, too. Naive hope had left her to believe she could do this on her own. She could keep it her little secret. It would be easy, she coached herself each morning. Just as easy as getting knocked up in the first place. Then, she had to put up her tighter fitting t-shirts, a perfect little bump protruding from her favorite. Each week, was a little harder than the one before. 

Then there was the morning sickness. That was new to this week and whoever dubbed it ‘morning’ sickness was a cruel, mistaken bastard. 

Her chair falls over as she rushes to the bathroom. She falls to her knees, hard. Nothing comes up because she hasn’t eaten since this morning. She threw up what little of the bagel she could get down. Miserable, she leans against the toilet. Letting the cool porcelain touch the bare skin where her shirt has risen up.

“Here,” warmth. Something warm is pressed into her palm and she realizes its a heating pad. A hand eases it’s way around her torso, pressing it to her stomach. The room smells of Irish Spring and fruit. Malcolm. “Have you eaten?” She allows him to pull her away from the toilet, leaning back against his boney chest instead. She shakes her head. 

He hums thoughtfully. His sensitive stomach finally coming in handy for something. “Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” He eases her up, bearing her weight as her knees tremble underneath her. “How about some Gatorade and saltines?”

She nods her head, resigning herself to being taken care of. 

“You okay?” Gil and JT are waiting just outside the doors. She wonders if they fought over who would come in to check on her. When neither step forward to peel her away from Malcolm’s side, she has her answer. 

Malcolm mumbles something but her attention is split. She only feels the deep rattle of his voice in his chest. “Alright,” he leads her to her chair not moving away until she’s completely settled. “Saltines and Gatorade, you need or want anything else?”

As he looks at her, crouched down on his knees she has to force her tears at bay. She can’t do this alone, she realizes. She doesn’t have to either. Malcolm smiles at her as he rises back to his feet, heading for his coat to head out into the cold, for her. JT and Gil keep nearby too, sparing her glances and small smiles. 

She’s got a family. Her baby will have one too.


	2. Lean on Me

\----------Month 3------------

“What’s this?” Malcolm stands proudly on the other side of her desk. She’s a little sleep-deprived and she’s attempting to nurse away the headache making itself known at the base of her temple. Yet, with each ding of her computer, the sound of each new email coming in, it’s getting harder and harder to ward off. Not to mention the proud smirk across Malcolm’s pale lips and the half perched leg he has on her desk so he can sit. He’s done it a thousand times before, sit on her desk, but right now it’s grating her nerves. 

He tilts his head, squinting in a way that tells her he expected for her to make the impossible connection with the strange purple fruit on her desk. Rather than keep her waiting her fills in,” it’s a plum!” He touches it with the tip of his finger, rolling it so that it bumps up against her wrist. She scowls at it. “You know…” he says, eager for her to understand where he’s going with this but nervous when she fails to understand. “Dani,” the way he says her voice is disapproving. As if he were the responsible level headed one and she was the idiot that gets hurt all the time and runs into danger without a second thought. “Didn’t you get that app!?” 

The app. Two weeks ago Malcolm had made some comment about a baby app but, if she’s honest, she wasn’t really listening. He was manic, besides himself with energy and misplaced anxiety. He was talking a mile a minute, his gestures so animated JT had to duck one of his thrown out hands. It wasn’t important, her mind supplied and paid him little to no attention.

In her opinion, it’s still not that important but it’s irking him now that she didn’t listen so at least she’s a little sorry. “No,” she mumbles and she feels a strong, overwhelming mix of anger and sadness. She’s upset that she didn’t listen, that he’s feeling upset too. The anger is at herself for those feelings. Unreasonable, stupid… pregnancy feelings. “I… forgot,” she lies and his eyes, sad blue oceans of his thoughts, betray his hurt. He knows she lied. “Can you…” she’s not sure why the app matters or even why the fruit does but it matters to him. “Malcolm, please explain to me the importance of this…” she gestures to the fruit, already having forgotten its name. 

He smiles sadly,” plum.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Explain to me the importance of the plum, please.”

He looks adamant and she hates that she’d allowed him to feel inadequate, unheard. He fidgets, rocking himself in a way she recognizes as self-soothing. In the way, he does when he’s anxious. “It’s a plum,” he mumbles more than says. His right hand comes to his mouth but he pulls it away. “The app,” he keeps rocking, worrying with his fingers. “You said you were having trouble tracking your progress but the app catalogs it for you. It tells you how far along you are and how big the baby is.” He nods to the plum, cheeks flushed. “This morning the app said your baby is the size of a plum.”

Tears swell in her eyes. His thoughtfulness making her chest tight, her stomach hurt. How is it that he cares so much for her and all she does it turn around and hurt him? “Really?” She can’t keep her tears at bay and the sight of them makes his face pale and his mouth open. “Malcolm,” the sudden emotional heaviness of the moment is made worse by the use of his first name. She always calls him Bright. “A plum?” Her hand goes, reflexively, to her stomach. Fingers ghosting over the tiny bump that hadn’t been there three months previous.

“Dammit dude,” JT mumbles as he walks through the cluster of their desk. He frowns softly at Dani, no doubt feeling awful for whatever Malcolm has said that has turned her into a gooey, crying mess. “What’d you say,” JT doesn’t even hesitate, just pulls her against his side. She breathes in his comfort, the warmth and solidity of him versus the raging unbalanced instability in her. 

Malcolm simply blushes harder stuttering over,” the baby is the size of a plum.”

Dani feels ten times worse because now he’s going to shy away from talking about the baby at all. She’s probably scared him. 

“Fuck sake,” JT mumbles as her tears start coming harder. He rubs her back and she feels ridiculous. Emotionally, she’s a mess and beyond that, it’s not a huge change for physically and mentally. She’s messing everything up. “Come on,” JT says softly, his arms still around her. “Come lay on the couch.” He guides her the whole way, gentle in a way she knows he reserves for Tally and victims. She sinks into the couch and allows herself to be pulled into a nap as JT settles the blanket from over the back of the couch over her.

\----------

“Malcolm,” JT warns, he can see Malcolm ebbing closer to Dani silently working. It’s not a ‘getaway’ but more of a ‘for the love of God don’t make her cry again’. The message is more or less received. Malcolm nods his head and offers an anxious smile before shuffling into their circle the rest of the way.

“Bright,” Dani greets, she’s been working none stop since her nap. Pausing only when JT asked her about a case he was filing. Needing her better memory for detail he simply couldn’t conjure from his mind. Her progress was being halted, still is, by a single comment Malcolm made. _“This morning the app said your baby is the size of a plum.”_ Had he downloaded the app and if so, how far had he gone out of his way this morning to deliver her a plum? A plum that was supposed to carry significance to her but only spoke measures to how wrong he had been about their friendship.

He shifts on his feet, another anxiety riddles habit. She curses herself for causing him discomfort. “Uhm, I was gonna go for a walk…” he clenches his fist and before she can stop herself she glances at his trembling hands. He’s absolutely unnerved. “E-Exercise,” he stumbles,” helps. It’s proven to help in delivery and easy back pains and fatigue associated with pregnancy.”

There he goes again knowing way too much about pregnancies but she’s not going to push it. She looks at her screen, she’s got about five minutes of work left. “Can you wait just a minute, please?”

He nods.

It’s colder than she remembers it being this morning. The sun is hidden behind thick clouds nearly the color of the sky. “It’s going to snow,” Malcolm observes, his eyes looking up at them too. She’s amazed by the conviction in his voice. She glances at him and pauses, captured in how young he suddenly looks. His age, she realizes. He’s not being worn down with the memory of his father or his malformed coping mechanisms. Just a man, caught in the clouds. 

He snaps back to her, to Earth and away from the clouds. He smiles at her attention,” what?” All of his anxious movements are absent. His hands are in his coat pockets, his feet keeping a steady movement as they walk. She takes a minute too long and his cheeks fill with heat.

“You just looked…” all the words that cross her mind are not appropriate. Attractive is what she says but happy is what she says. Her answer must be good because he smiles one of those earth-quaking smiles and glances at her. She tries not to make it obvious the knots that smile ties her stomach in.

He glances back up,” I… I love the snow.” It feels like the first time he’s truly told her something. Not immediacy, the fake intimacy of half-truths. Something real and true and she can see it in his eyes. “Gil,” the smile is turned to her now. “He hated the snow but he always took me out. Let me get soaked to the bone and we’d go back to Jackie.” He keeps glancing back over to her,” she’d get us in warm clothes, fussing in Spanish the whole time.”

She can picture it well enough. She’d met Jackie a handful of times after her overdose back when Gil believed anything could be fixed if you sat in a squad car long enough. Jackie was beautiful even with silver hair and always made Gil promise to have Dani back to her house before it got too late. Sometimes even packing them both snacks. She imagines that Gil, happy and light, with the Malcolm pictured on Gil’s desk. 

Malcolm laughs softly,” I miss her.”

Strangely, Dani does too.

They pass a block in thoughtful silence. Malcolm seems to always make the silence natural, comfortable. He bumps into her shoulder, his attention split between walking and looking at the stores as they pass. “Have you gotten a sonogram yet?”

There he goes again with those questions she’s just not sure how he came up with. She shakes her head, embarrassment. “No,” and admit that she has a child to raise on her own?’ Her mother is disappointed in her choices, in her childlike behavior that has lead to this: going back to Estime. The others don’t know yet but when they do… “There are some problems with my insurance and…”

Malcolm stops walking, his face pinched in confusion. It takes Dani a moment but she stops too, backtracking so she’s standing by him. “Your insurance isn’t good,” he asks, head tilted and face still pinched. She shakes her head and he makes a sound at the back of his throat. “You could use mine.”

“Malcolm-”

“No,” he mutters but his conviction is strong. He shakes his head,” you need good insurance so you can be healthy, right?” He doesn’t wait for her answer so much as her eye contact. “You need good insurance so your baby can be healthy.” He nods his head like he’s finalized the thought,” I can put you with mine. It’s not like money is a problem. It wouldn’t even be hard.” Sensing her distrust of this idea he softens his tone from convicted to pleading,” please, Dani.” A thought comes to mind,” call it my baby shower gift.”

Except, she knows it won’t end there. “Fine.”


	3. Hold My Hand

\------------Month 3------------------

“Stop.” His body suddenly stops its anxious movement. His drumming knees, fiddling thumbs, and rocking torso. He grows so still she suddenly wishes he was moving again. Bringing forth action or something that is alive and concrete, unlike the uncertain anxiety she feels nestled tightly in her stomach.

She glances to her left, to see if her sudden outburst has placed a visible expression on his face. It hasn’t. He sits just as he had before, a small smile on his lips as he looks straight at the wall in front of them. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, eyes moving like his to the happy couple that walks in. The woman is visibly uncomfortable, around the eighth month of her pregnancy, and the man waits patiently as he holds each door open for her. His smile brings tears to Dani’s eyes and she’s reminded that she’ll never have what they have. “I’m just emotional.”

He tears his eyes away from the couple. That small smile still on his lips. “It’s fine,” she watches as he pulls his right hand up to his mouth, pressing his nails to his teeth. He never chews them, she’s noticed, but he still places them there. It’s a habit, biting his nails, but he’s kicked it and now soothes the urge to bite by placing the blunt nail to lips. The result is lips that looked chapped. Those chapped lips pull into a smile,” are you excited?”

She doesn’t know. 

“Brights?” A nurse in painfully happy scrubs smiles until she sees Dani is the only one getting up. “Is dad not coming?” The way she says it, her frown, it makes Dani realize that she may never have what the happy couple has but she has a perfectly good friend. Dani looks back, Malcolm’s fingers pressed back to his lips and his eyes cast to the wall again. He’s not dad. He didn’t do this and here he sits. 

He senses their eyes and turns to them. 

“Come on.” 

He looks between Dani and the nurse, dumbfounded. He stands when she motions again with her hand. He follows just a step behind, close but not close enough. His head is ducked but she knows from that look in his eyes that he’s focused on their conversation. 

“Do you want an ultrasound?”

She hasn’t got the time before Malcolm’s head is back up and grinning,” of course.”

The nurse smiles at his eagerness. She has no idea how that simple, silly smile sends her heart racing. The way his icy blue eyes flick to her, eager and so excited to see a child that isn’t his. None of this is going to work.

“Let’s get the worst over with,” the nurse says once she leads them into their room. She motions for Dani to set on the table and Malcolm joins her uncertainty in the space to her left, standing with his hands in his pockets. The nurse smiles at them, pulling instruments out of respective draws. “I need a little blood.”

Malcolm pats her shoulder, a small joking smile on his lips. Dani doesn’t appreciate his humor.

The nurse positions the needle-

She grabs his hand.

He doesn’t let go.

She draws the blood, slow, and explains each of her movements as she walks them through the steps. She smiles the whole time, attempting to soothe, what she assumes is, first time parent anxieties. The complexity of what they really are is lost even to them. 

The doctor nods, a middle aged woman in overly happy scrubs just like the nurse.

“Now, for the best part.” The nurse says, she slides out, hitting the lights as the doctor takes her spot. She pulls the cart up to Dani’s side. Dani squeezes his hand, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes as she rolls her shirt up. The sound she makes as the cold jelly hits her skin makes Malcolm chuckle and Dani wonders if this is what life is like all the time for the other woman. To have someone who is there for her. Dani likes having him here. 

“Is that-” Malcolm’s voice cuts off, his mouth unhinged as he looks at the shadow on the monitor. 

Dani cries. Looking at this unborn child… She’s got a million things running through her head. She can’t abort the baby, in her mind she’s justified this child. Somehow, she loves this baby despite never having held it or even named it. She can’t put it up for adoption either. It’s hers. This baby is her child. A child she has to raise, to help become an adult better than her. She has deprived this child of a father but she’s more than certain that between Gil and Jt… and even Malcolm, things will be fine. 

The baby will be fine.

“It looks like a chicken nugget,” Malcolm says, voice thick with his own tears. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of sonograms but…”

The doctor smiles up at him,” yeah. It’s a little different when it's your baby though, right?”

Malcolm grins, shooting Dani a sideways glance. He agrees,” yeah, something like that.”

She squeezes his hand, smiling through her tears. “When can I-we know the gender?”

The doctor frowns, she moves the wand around on Dani’s stomach. “You're uncertain about what week you are, right?” The doctor clicks her tongue,” mmm.” She moves the wand more, positioning it until she grins. “I’d say you’re nearly sixteen weeks. If you’re lucky, today.” She fishes around a little more, Dani squeezing Malcolm’s hand. “Op!”

Dani grins as the baby comes into full view.

“What are we hoping for dad?” The doctor glances up at Malcolm. 

At the same time, Dani and Malcolm both proclaim,” girl.”

The doctor smiles,” did you practice that?” She doesn’t notice the deep flush on both their cheeks. “Good news, I think we’ve got ourselves a happy baby girl.”

“You seem happy.”

Gil eyes them both in a way that Dani knows means he thinks something is umok between the two of them. She rolls her eyes and ducks under the crime scene tape. Her stomach is still sticky with the jelly from the ultrasound but when duty calls…

“Yeah,” JT frowns at them, looking unamused but Dani finds it harder and harder lately to tell the difference between his moods. “Why were you together?”

Malcolm doesn't say a word, doesn’t even spare them a second glance. He just keeps doing his job.

“I went to an ultrasound for the baby,” she excludes why Malcolm would be there but with their attention now on her child, he’s the least of their concerns. 

Which is why they miss the bomb.

“Malcolm!”

The blast comes unexpectedly. It shoves her off her feet, forcing her to land hard on the floor. She blinks heavily, her ears ringing and her arms tingling. Dust rains down. She blinks it away, the thick clouds settling in her hair and eyelashes. 

“Malcolm!” She stands and the world tilts for a moment before she’s able to right herself on her feet. She sees him, just off to the side. His body is bent in on itself, startling crimson standing out against his chestnut brown hair and pale skin. “M-Malcolm?” She takes a step forward, fear tight in her chest.

She hadn’t seen the bomb. No one had. 

JT gets to Malcolm first. Gently turning him over under those startling blue eyes blink open and pinch shut as the sun above assault his eyes. He’s kicked into action, his body trying to fight something that is not there. 

“Stay still,” dazed herself she’s no help. JT does his best to talk Malcolm down, to convince him to go to the hospital, to calm down. Malcolm wrestles himself free of JT’s grip, stumbling dangerously without JT’s hands keeping him upright. “Malcolm!” JT catches him around the waist, managing to keep him on his feet instead of nosediving back on to the floor. 

He sits still just long enough for a medic to declare that he’s pretty sure no real damage has been done. It’s enough time for Gil to decide she and Malcolm are going home and he’s not seeing or hearing from either of them unless one of them is dead or dying. She doesn’t test him on how much he means that. She takes Malcolm’s elbow and does her best to steer him into her car.

“I made another appointment. It’s for a few weeks from now.”

He hadn’t expected her to update him. More so, he hadn’t expected the update to be in the middle of another of their infamous ‘Dani takes Malcolm home so he can lick his wounds and sleep’ trips. He closes his eyes, trying to gather words in his mind to create a sentence around the pounding assault of his concussion. He ends up grunting, bringing his left hand over his ear and resting his head against the back of the seat.

Her eyes stay on the road, sparing him a single glance. She feels for him, really. Concussions are a pain and always seem to take too long to heal but those caused by a blast… They take so much longer to heal, the tinnitus is horrendous. “If you’d like to come…” 

He grunts again, peeling himself away from the leather of the chair and putting his head in his hands. “I…” he clears his throat. His pupils remain unevenly dilated, the same dazed look smacked across his face as the one he had when she helped him to his feet. “I’ll be there,” he slurs slightly, his hand pressing harder into his skull. “Jus-Just as soon as this ringing…” he sputters off his sentence. He looks up, eyes big,” pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over!”

She does, tires screeching and a horn honking as she weaves over. Malcolm’s door is open before the car is stopped. His knees hit the sidewalk below, pitching him on his hands and knees. She cringes at his rough gagging, feeling sorry and compassionate for his suffering. Just a month ago that was her. 

“Bright,” she makes her way over to the other side. His arms trembling under the weight of his chest. He glances up at her, dragging a hand across his lips. “You good?” She offers him a hand up and his hand is freezing. He shakes his head, leaning heavily on Dani’s hand. “We, uh,” she steadies him against her. “We switched placed didn’t we?” He trips, unable to lift his feet up all the way but he does smile. Offering her a small solace, that he’s weak and clammy, concussed and tired but still there.

“Sorry,” he grunts, still needing her pressed into his side as she helps him back into the car.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And he doesn’t.

“You should probably sleep,” she says, feeling the cool buzz in the air when his body is longer pressed against hers. He spends exactly three seconds wobbling in the direction of his bed before his attention goes to the stairs by his bed. The stairs she knows leads to the desk and serial killer paraphernalia he keeps ‘hidden’. “... but you won’t.”

She follows him. 

“Or,” Malcolm proposes spinning around to face her too quickly and leaning heavily on the edge of his desk. “Or I can work on the profile I now know needs to be worked on because our killer has evolved!” He’s clearly happy with this improvement but Dani already knows that his methods are going to lean on burning out and starvation. Two things she shouldn’t let him do, with or without the concussion.

“Can I help,” she settles herself in his chair, not giving him the option. Not that she’s so sure he would say no. There’s something about the look in his eyes that makes her realize that he really wouldn’t say no. She’s always invited, welcomes in what little space he allows himself. It speaks to something but she hasn’t figured out the depth of the reach. She thinks that, with him, there’s a chance she never will.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment any ideas... PLEASE! I want to hear it all!


End file.
